Proceedings of the Liverpool Literary & Philosophical Society, Volums 43-44

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Pàgina 178 - And Jacob vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, So that I come again to my father's house in peace ; then shall the Lord be my God : and this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God's house : and of all that thou shalt give me, I will surely give the tenth unto thee.
Pàgina 199 - The year's at the spring And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn: God's in his heaven — All's right with the world!
Pàgina 190 - O world, as God has made it ! All is beauty : And knowing this, is love, and love is duty.
Pàgina 205 - If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time ; I press God's lamp Close to my breast — its splendour, soon or late, Will pierce the gloom : I shall emerge one day ! You understand me ? I have said enough ? Fest.
Pàgina 193 - I but open my eyes, — and perfection, no more and no less, In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, and God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the clod.
Pàgina 212 - All service ranks the same with God — With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we ; there is no last nor first.
Pàgina 169 - More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to interpret life for us, to console us, to sustain us. Without poetry, our science will appear incomplete ; and most of what now passes with us for religion and philosophy will be replaced by poetry.
Pàgina 195 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
Pàgina 203 - The very God! think, Abib; dost thou think? So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too — So, through the thunder comes a human voice Saying, "O heart I made, a heart beats here ! Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself. Thou hast no power nor may'st conceive of mine, But love I gave thee, with Myself to love, And thou must love me who have died for thee ! " The madman saith He said so: it is strange.
Pàgina 179 - For thence— a paradox Which comforts while it mocks— Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me; A brute I might have been, but would not sink i

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